Our wife.
Our significant other (as opposed to insignificant other
)Our girlfrind.
Maybe even, boyfriend.
Most of us have somebody in our lives that 'put up with' what we do. Without their support, it would be tough to do what we do.
Sometimes, admittedly, we get out of hand.
We'd rather make our pick in a Draft Championship and prefer for our beloved to put the kids to bed.
Our computer and phones are a constant check.
My wife calls it 'Your Fantasy Life'.
We're men. Taking a dump and reading is multi-tasking for us.
Trying to hide the fact that we care more about our next pick than walking the dogs or putting the trash out is no good.
Sitting on our sofa with our wife, our arm around her, looking at the phone, in our hand behind her head to see if we're up won't work either.
We have to come out and admit that we have a passion. A passion that will annoy them.
After years, my wife is used to me sitting on the sofa with a laptop. Sometimes, it's not even on.
It has become an extension of me. And she's good with that.
One rule. I get one "What?"
If I have to say "What?" in response to a question or statement from her more than once during the night, laptop priviledges are revoked.
It's fair.
It was suggested in a wonderful fast/slow that I tell all of you this little story, so I will.
Admittedly, I may be a little more captivated by our hobby than most, but most of you will understand......
I was going through a typical day while my wife was at work.
MLB and their list of top Centerfielders was playing on our tv.
Our desktop computer had a window open to Baseball Reference.com
My laptop, on my lap as I was writing something for these Message Boards.
And, I was on the phone talking with Roger Martin talking about ball players and plotting how we would take over the Auction World in Las Vegas.
Unbeknownst to me, my wife had walked through our door, home early from work.
I hurriedly rushed off the phone with Rog to greet her.
She looked at Mike Trout on the tv.
She looked at the desktop computer with a picture of Avisail Garcia.
She looked at the laptop with 'National Fantasy Baseball Championship scrolled across the top.
She looked at the phone, as if visualizing a fantasy addicted fella like me.
She shook her head.
After what seemed an eternity, she said, "Just once, I'd like to catch you looking at porn like other husbands."
We couldn't do it without them.
And even though they give us the stink-eye when we're doing something we deem important, we love them.
They ground us.
And we love them for 'putting up with us'.
They don't know, but they are the real hero in our lives.
Fantasy seasons come and go, they, they are a constant.
And we wouldn't have it any other way.
How about you?
Do you have a story about your fantasy life and loved one in your life?
They cross paths so often, I'm betting there must be some good stories out there.
Please share.
